


Su corazón

by Deepspacedust



Series: Su corazón [1]
Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: Angst, Birth, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father Daughter fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, On My Block - Freeform, Pre-Series, Pregnancy, Sadness, Sibling Love, Unplanned Pregnancy, santos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepspacedust/pseuds/Deepspacedust
Summary: A series of one shots following Oscar and his daughter.
Relationships: Cesar Diaz & Oscar "Spooky" Diaz, Cesar Diaz/Jamal Turner, Cesar Diaz/Monse Finnie, Cesar Diaz/Original Character(s), Cesar Diaz/Original Female Characters, Cesar Diaz/Ruby Martinez, Jasmine Flores/Ruby Martinez, Oscar "Spooky" Diaz/Original Female Character(s), Oscar "Spooky" Diaz/Ruby Martinez
Series: Su corazón [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668592
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. Nunca conocí un amor como este

When he holds his daughter for the first time, he thinks that he’s never been so terrified. This little creature, completely dependent on him. Far tinier than he ever could have imagined she would be. He could easily hold her in one hand, but instead holds onto her firmly with both, suddenly doubting his ability to keep hold of something so tiny. 

She’s perfect. He lets his eyes scan across her. Her tiny head, already covered in thick downy curls. Her full rosebud lips, puckering every so often, suckling at the air. Her button nose, a tiny swoop. Oscar lets one of his fingers glide across her face. He cant believe that she’s his. Can't believe that he helped make something as beautiful as her. He doesn’t feel like he deserves her.

When she opens her eyes for the first time, his heart nearly stops. They’re a golden brown. The colour of shimmering liquid bronze. She looks up at him, her wide doe eyes scanning his face, taking him and the rest of the world around her in. And in that moment Oscar feels both a love and a sadness that he’s never felt before. A love for this tiny creature that he helped to create, and a sadness because his nenã has him for a father. 

He wishes that he had more to offer her. Feels a pang of guilt at the thought of his daughter growing up with a gang-banger for a dad. She deserves someone who can give her, not only everything she needs, but everything that she wants.


	2. Sus chicas

Marisol and Oscar are sitting on opposite sides of the living room floor, Elena on her bottom in between them. Marisol is leaning back, propped up on her arms, her belly round with their second child. She had gotten pregnant not long after having Elena. 

She had been somewhere between a laugh and a cry when they found out. “Two babies less than a year apart.” She had said as she looked down at the positive pregnancy test. Oscar sat on the edge of the bathtub across from her, his eyes darting between Marisol and the pregnancy test in her hand. 

“Hey, we’ll figure it out.” He had eventually said, his hand running across his shaved head. Marisol looked up at him, her eyes wet, and nodded in agreement. 

“I know.” She had said, a scared smile making its way to her face. “We always do.”

He watches her now as she sits on the floor, nearly nine months pregnant, encouraging their daughter to crawl towards her. “Ven, mi amor. Ven a mami.” And with that, Elena was moving. She placed her tiny chubby hands on the ground in front of her bracing herself as she lifted her butt up into the air, and then stood straight up. Oscar and Marisol exchanged shocked looks with one another before turning their gaze back to their daughter’s wobbly frame. 

“Si mi niña!” Marisol said, her voice full of excitement, and Oscar couldn’t decide if it was more his daughter standing for the first time or his wife’s excitement over it that was causing him to laugh out in delight. “Walk to mami!” Marisol said, her arms stretched out towards the wobbling baby in front of her, and Elena started to move towards her mother, arms out as she tried to balance herself as she walked across the living room. Elena made it to her mother, collapsing as Marisol scooped her up in her arms, pulling her close to her chest. She peppered her face with kisses as Elena giggled, her chubby legs falling over either side of Marisol’s swollen belly. Oscar looked at both of his girls and laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. As he watched Marisol with Elena, the two of them giggling together, he couldn’t help but hope that Marisol was pregnant with another girl.


	3. Princesa en amarillo

Oscar is in the front yard one morning when he hears a tiny rapping coming from behind him. He looks over his shoulder to see Elena — in a buttercup yellow dress, her hair a mass of dark curls swirling around her little face — beating her tiny palms against the screen door, her face spreading into a toothless smile. 

“Hola niña!” He says, standing to move towards the baby bouncing up and down behind the screen. “Tuviste una buena siesta bebé?” He asks her softly, not caring that his homies are listening, or that his voice rises an octave or two as he speaks to her. She’s jumping up and down as he moves closer towards her, her curls bouncing, her eyes still tired from sleep. He opens the screen door and scoops her up into his arms effortlessly. Elena looks into his eyes resting one tiny palm on the side of his face, before dropping her head to his chest, her cheek pressed against his heart. “You still tired, mamicita?” He asks, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back, and he feels her nod in acknowledgment against his chest, one of her little hands grasping the gold chain around his neck. 

She looks up at him, her wide golden eyes soft from sleep. “Pa-pa.” She manages to squeak out, a chubby finger poking into his cheek, her little face lighting up as she says it.

Oscar looks at her in amazement, and feels his eyes start to sting. He watches her as she stares at him. “That’s right nenã! Papá!” He says. “I’m your papi!” She giggles as he presses a kiss to her face and holds her closer.


	4. Noches de insomnio

It’s three in the morning when he wakes up to the sounds of Elena crying next to him in Marisol’s arms. She’s holding Elena close to her chest, her hand running over the baby’s dark curls and down her back as she cries into her mothers chest. “Mi bebé. Esta bien.” Marisol soothes as she lets her hand run through Elena’s curls.

"Que pasa?” Oscar asks as he shifts himself up in bed, his voice still groggy with sleep.

“Ella tiene fiebre. Feel her.” She says. “She’s so warm.” Oscar moves to place his hand against his baby’s forehead, letting his hand move to cup her face. 

“Shit.” He says, looking to Marisol. Oscar moves to stand, walking to Marisol’s side of the bed, scooping his daughter into his arms. Marisol shifts in bed and goes to stand. “No bebe.” He says. “La tengo. Descanso. I’ve got her.” He leans down to place a kiss to Marisol’s forehead, the hand he’s not holding Elena with coming to rest against the swell of his wife’s stomach. She’s due any day now, and he doesn’t want her putting more stress on herself than she has to. Marisol protests at first, but agrees to lay back down once Oscar manages to convince her that he has the situation handled.

Oscar walks to the bathroom with Elena in his arms, and grabs the bottle of children’s Tylenol from the cupboard. She’s crying as they walk, her little face hot and soaked with tears. He hears Cesar open his bedroom door, and turns to see his little brother leaning against his door frame. “What’s wrong?” He asks, concern in his voice. 

“Elena’s got a temperature.” Oscar says, as he moves to walk back down the hall. Cesar reaches out, placing his hand over Elena’s forehead. 

“Ay! Mamacita.” He says, moving to kiss the baby’s forehead, and Elena settles a little at her uncles touch. “Is there anything that I can do?” Cesar asks, squinting into the light.

“Nah, mano. I’m just gonna giver her some Tylenol, see if it takes her fever down. She’ll be alright.” Oscar says. He’s been through this enough times with Cesar when he was little to know when a fever is serious and when it isn’t. Elena cries again in his arms as he moves to sit them down at the kitchen table, and her breath hitches as she fidgets in Oscar’s arms. “I know, nenã. Lo sé.” He soothes, placing a kiss against his baby’s damp forehead. He manages to get the medicine into her after a little convincing, and pretending to drink it himself. 

An hour passes, and then two. They’re still sitting at the kitchen table when she falls asleep in his arms. 

Her fever’s nearly gone when the sun starts to come up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this series so far. I've really been enjoying writing for Oscar. Feel free to leave fic prompts in the comments and/or in my inbox, and I'll try to write a few!


	5. Las cosas no siempre salen según lo planeado

They hadn’t planned on having a home delivery with their second baby. Everything had just happened so quickly.

Marisol had been in labour with Elena for nearly 72 hours before she had given birth. It had been hell. Oscar had never felt so helpless in all his life, watching his wife struggle for three days to bring their daughter into the world.

Their second daughter, Natalia, had been different. Marisol’s water broke a week after her due date just after midnight. Oscar woke up to her shifting in the bed next to him. “Estas bien bebé?” He said, reaching an arm out towards Marisol in the dark.

“I don’t know. I think I peed myself.” She said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Eh?” Oscar asked confused, reaching to turn the bedside lamp on. When the light filled the room, he saw Marisol, her hair wild with sleep, looking down at her lap. Her shorts and the sheets underneath her were soaked.

“Shit.” She said, moving to stand. Oscar got up to walk to her side of the bed, taking her hands in his and lifting her up. “I’m sorry.” She said, her eyes filling up with tears as she looked at the sheets, and then up at Oscar.

“What you got to be sorry for, nenã?” He asked, taking her chin in his hand.

“I can’t believe I peed myself.” She said, clearly still not fully awake.

“You sure it’s pee?” Oscar asked, cupping her belly in his hands, and stepping back to inspect her shorts and the sheets.

“Shit.” Marisol said, looking up at him, her eyes still half closed. “Oh Dios mío. I think my water broke.” She said, finally waking up fully, her hands moving to rest on top of Oscars that were still holing onto the sides of her belly.

“What you wanna do, nenã?” Oscar asked her, feeling a little panicked, bringing a hand up to brush the curls out of his wife’s face.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” She said, moving to slide her shorts off.

...

Marisol had only been in the shower a few minutes when Oscar heard her yell for him.

When he pulled back the shower curtain he saw Marisol crouched on the floor of the shower on her knees, her hands planted in front of her, the water still streaming down on her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, a look of fear on her face.

“Baby!” He said, stepping into the shower, not bothering to turn the water off before reaching to lift her up. “What happened? Did you fall?”

“No.” She cried, grabbing onto her husbands arms as he tried lifting her from the floor. “It hurts.” She said, digging her nails into his arms. “I think the baby’s coming. Now!” She said, her voice a strangled cry.

Oscar got her out of the shower and dressed in one of his t shirts. It hung on Marisol like a dress in every place but her belly. They made their way to the living room, Marisol tucked against Oscars side as he supported her while they walked. And then another wave of pain washed over her. She cried out, eyes closed, face pinched, as she turned to grab Oscars upper arms in her hands. They stood there until the wave of pain passed.

Marisol was hunched over, her face pressed into Oscar’s chest, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She was swaying side to side as she moaned into his shirt when Cesar walked out of his room, a look of confusion plastered across his face as he locked eyes with Oscar’s.

“What’s going on?” Cesar asked, still half asleep. And before Oscar had a chance to answer his brothers question, Marisol cried out again.

“I think I need to push!” Marisol yelled, moving to crouch down on the ground.

“What!?” Oscar retorted, his voice laden with fear. “Ay, no mamita. We gotta get you to the hospital!”

Marisol looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear, her face settling into a look of conviction.

“No.” She said, matter of factly. “I’m not gonna make it to a hospital.”

“Ay! Yes we can!” Oscar said, moving to stand.

“Oscar!” Marisol yelled, grabbing her husbands hands and, with them, his full attention. “I can feel the baby’s head. I’m not gonna— Mierda!” She yelled, her eyes closing tightly as a wave of pain crashed over her again. “I’m not gonna make it to the hospital!”

“Cesar!” Oscar yelled, turning towards his brother, his hands still holding on to Marisol’s. “Go run across the street and get Señora Martinez!”

“What?” Cesar asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “

Ay, compa, just do it! The baby’s coming!”

“Oh, shit!” Cesar said, moving towards and then out the front door, running across the street barefoot.

Marisol was breathing heavy, her hands gripping onto Oscar’s with every ounce of strength she had in her body. “Solo espera nenã.” Oscar soothed. “La señora Martínez estará aquí en un segundo.”

“No!” She yelled. “No! She’s coming now! You have to help me, baby.” She said, moving to sit on the floor, her back pushed up against the sofa. “You have to grab her.”

“What?” He asked shocked. But Marisol was already pushing before he had time to fully absorb the situation.

Marisol pushed, and Oscar watched as his daughters head appeared. “Veo su cabeza!” He said. Marisol pushed again and again, revealing the baby’s shoulders. And then, before Oscar could fully register anything that was happening, he was scooping his daughter into his arms. Marisol threw her head back against the sofa in exhaustion, and the baby let out a strangled cry as Oscar held her firmly against his chest.

“You did it, nenã!” He laughed, his voice cracking as his gaze moved back and forth between his wife and the tiny baby in his arms. Marisol let out an exhausted laugh, and reached for her daughter.

Ruby’s abuelita entered the house just moments after Natalia was born, Cesar hot on her heels. Cesar peered into the living room, looking between his brother, his sister-in-law, and the tiny baby crying in her arms, and then moved swiftly down the hall to grab Elena from her crib.

“Parece que no me necesitabas después de todo.” The old woman laughed, placing a gentle hand on Oscars shoulder.

She tended to Marisol and the baby, the excitement of the moment buzzing like electricity in the air around them, as Cesar reappeared with Elena in his arms.

“Hey mamicita!” Oscar said, reaching for his first born. Her little face was confused as she looked between her father, and her mother sitting on the floor. “Tu hermanita está aquí!” He said, bouncing his daughter in his arms. Elena swivelled her little head to look at her father, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Bebé?” She asked, looking up at her father.

“Si, mi amor.” He said, placing a kiss to her cheek.

“Ven aquí, bebé.” Marisol said, extending her free hand to reach for Elena. Oscar placed Elena in his wife’s arms, and watched as his eldest daughter's eyes went wide with wonder at the sight of the tiny baby curled against her mothers chest. 

“Bebé!” She giggled, placing a tiny hand against her sisters even tinier one.

...

Later that night, as Marisol and Oscar lay in their bed, Natalia and Elena sleeping in between them, Oscar watched his wife reverently.

“What?” She laughed as she looked at him, a tired smile on her face.

“Nada.” He said, moving his hand to rest against her cheek. “I just can’t believe you’re mine. “


	6. No hay una respuesta simple

**Elena: Age 7**

Oscar shows up to Elena’s school a little after lunch. He finds her sitting in a chair outside of the principals office, her arms folded, her face angry, her skinny legs dangling, feet barley touching the floor. She looks up at him as he enters the waiting room, her face unchanging as their eyes meet.

“¿Qué le pasó a Elena?” He asks as he walks towards her, knowing full well what happened. They had filled him in over the phone. Elena had hit another student in the face. Split the kids lip and broke his nose. “Eh? Elena Te hice una pregunta.” He continued, kneeling in front of his daughter so that he could meet her eyes. She looks at him, and its only now that he notices the dried tears on her face, and the new ones beginning to form in her eyes. “Mi niña pequeña.” He says moving to cup her chin in his hand. He turns from her when he hears the Principal open her office door.

“Mr. Diaz?” She asks, and Oscar turns to see a woman in a navy dress suit with a stern look in her face.

“I am.” He says, standing to greet her, trying to keep his voice even.

“Principal Corgan.” The woman says, extending her hand towards him. Her eyes trail accusingly over him, lingering, Oscar thinks, a little too long on the tattoo just below his eye. “Please, do come in.” She says gesturing towards her opened door, and Oscar guides Elena into the office as he goes.

When he enters the office, he sees a little boy sitting in a chair next to a middle-aged blond woman whom he can only assume is the boys mother. The boy is holding a bag of half melted ice to his face, his gaze never moving from the ground. His mother, on the other hand, is glaring at Oscar as he moves to sit in the chair next to her.

“So,” the principal begins, clasping her hands together on her desk. “Mr. Diaz. I’m assuming, based on the conversation we had on the phone before you got here this afternoon, that you know what this meeting pertains to.” Elena is sitting next to Oscar, her face still seething, her skinny arms still crossed tightly across her chest.

“Yes.” Oscar answers, looking from Elena to the principal.

“Mr. Diaz.” Principal Corgan continues. “Elena hit another student.” Oscar tenses in his seat, his eyes moving between his daughter and the principal.

“She assaulted him!” The boys mother corrects, her voice dripping with distain. Oscar turns to look at her, and the woman stares at him for a moment, her eyes scanning across the tattoos on his face and neck before looking back to Principal Corgan. “This is unacceptable!” The woman continues, her hand resting on her sons head. “I’m assuming you’re going to take immediate action!” Oscar can feel the anger beginning to rise in his chest as the woman speaks, and he has to take a deep breath to stop himself from saying something that he’ll likely regret.

“He deserved it!” Elena pipes up, and Oscar turns to look at her, a little shocked by his daughters sudden outburst.

“Elena.” He scolds. “Sabes mejor que hablar cuando debes estar en silencio. Ahora no es el momento de tener una actitud.” She looks at him, and her lower lip trembles as their eyes meet, new tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“Can you speak English, please!” The woman next to him says, more of a demand than a question. “This is a meeting for all of us, not just for you and your daughter.” Oscar feels his chest tighten and he clenches his jaw in an attempt to prevent his expression, or worse his words, from revealing his actual feelings.

“Mrs. Daniels.” The principal interjects. “Please, that’s unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” The woman yells. “This,” she says pointing at her sons face, “was unnecessary.” Elena shifts in her seat.

“Elena.” The principal says, turning her attention to the little girl in front of her. “I’ve already heard Joseph’s recounting of what happened today. How about you tell me what happened from your perspective.”

“Her perspective?” Mrs. Daniels screeches. “She assaulted my son! That is the only perspective!” Oscar keeps his eyes on his daughter as he bites his tongue to prevent himself from saying something that he knows he shouldn’t.

“Elena?” The principal prompts again.

Elena is silent for a moment before she speaks. “He was talking bad about my family.” She says, and Oscar can hear her voice shake and crack as she speaks, a fresh wave of tears falling down her little cheeks. “He said that my family was trash. That my papi was a…” Elena stops herself before she finishes, looking up at Oscar for a second before looking back at her feet. “He pulled my hair.” She continues. “He said my family was gonna get deported.” Elena finishes, the last word coming out as a sob, and Oscar can feel his blood begin to boil.

…

The principal had decided to only suspend Elena for a week. She had said that neither Elena nor the boy were in the right, and that because Elena had never been in trouble before, she would be lenient with her punishment. The young boy had received the same punishment, much to his mothers dismay.

On the drive home, Oscar lets them sit in silence, partly because he knows how upset his daughter is, and partly because of how angry he is over what had just occurred. When they pull up in front of the house, Elena moves to get out of the car, but Oscar stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Elena leans back into her seat with a sigh.

“Elena,” he says, moving his hand to brush her hair out of her face. “Elena.” He says again, taking her chin in his hand, and moving her face gently to look at him. “I know what happened today made you angry. It makes me angry, too. But when pendejos say things like that to you, you use this.” He says placing a finger against the side of her head. “Not these.” He says pointing to her hands. “Nosotros nos elevamos por encima de esa mierda.” Elena stars at him for a moment, her face becoming serious as she decides whether or not she really wants to ask her father the question that she is about to ask him.

“Are you in a gang, daddy?” Elena asks, her eyes still locked on her father. Oscar watches her, the question catching him off guard. The car is silent for a very long moment before either of them speak. He turns to look out of the windshield of his Impala, trying to decide how to answer his daughters question in a way they she will understand.

“Who said that I was in a gang?” He finally asks, letting his gaze fall back to his daughter. She’s not looking at him anymore. Her eyes are glued to the floor of the car.

“Joseph.” She answers, her voice barley audible.

“Hey.” He says, trying to get her attention. “That pequeño gilipollas doesn’t know the first thing about our family.” He says, watching her as he speaks. “I don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about me or our family. You know why?” Elena looks at him and shakes her head waiting for him to finish. “Because people are always gonna have opinions about other people. Its easy to make assumptions about a person when you have no idea who they actually are or what they’ve been through.”

Oscar realizes that his response isn’t exactly an answer to his daughters question, but he hopes that his response will be enough for now. He knows that the alternative— telling her the truth— isn’t an option. But Elena is smart, and he has a feeling that if she doesn’t already know the answer to her question, she will soon enough.

Elena grabs her bag and opens the car door to get out, and this time Oscar doesn’t stop her.

Once she’s inside the house, Oscar leans back in his seat, letting his head fall against the headrest, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.


	7. Su pequeña niña

**Elena: Age 13**

“Where’s mami?” Oscar hears a small voice behind him ask. He turns around to see Elena standing in the hallway, pressed up against the door frame, half of her body hidden behind it.

“Why aren’t you in bed, mija?” He asks, Turing in his chair so that he’s facing her.

“I—“ she starts “I— I just. Where’s mami?” She asks again, her eyes darting from his to the floor. Somethings off about it. She seems timid, something that she rarely ever is.

“Mami left already nenã. Her flight was at 4:30, remember. She kissed you before she left though. ¿por qué? Que esta mal mi amor?”

“Nothing.” She says, catching his eyes before quickly looking back down at her feet. And before he can say anything else ,she’s moving back down the hall, her door closing softly behind her.

…

The next morning she’s unusually quiet at breakfast. She barely utters a word to him as she sits down at the table. Her eyes never move to meet his. She seems hyper-focused on her cereal, and Oscar can’t seem to figure out whats so damn interesting about a bowl of Cheerios. They sit in tense silence for a few minutes before Oscar says “¿Qué pasa Elena?” His tone is soft but firm. She doesn’t answer him. “Eh?” He asks, trying again to get her attention.

“Nothing.” She says, with a bit of attitude, and Oscar is a little taken aback.

“Hey, Elena. Te hice una pregunta simple. No hay necesidad de la actitud.” He says, and when she looks up at him sheepishly, he thinks her eyes look a little glassy, so he doesn’t press the subject any further.  
…

The drive to school isn’t much better. She’s turned away from him, her body pressed as tightly into the door of the car as she can manage, her gaze cast outward as they drive. Oscar doesn’t know what to say. She’s usually not like this with him. Sure, she’s given him attitude before, especially over the last few years, but this seems to have come out of nowhere.

When they get to the school, he puts the car in park. “Have a good day at school, bebé.” He says, but Elena doesn’t budge from where she’s sitting.

“I don’t want to go to school today.” She says, not moving to looking at him.

“Elena.” He says, feeling a little frustrated. But his frustration turns to concern when he hears her sniffling, and she moves to wipe her face.

“Eh, bebita. Que pasa?” He asks, reaching his hand towards her to move the dark curls away from her face so that he can see her.

“I wan’t mami.” She says, still not turning to look at him.

“Well, I’m sorry mi princesa. Mami’s not gonna be home for another few days.

“Daddy, can I just stay home today?” She asks again, her voice almost pleading.

“Elena. If I let you skip school, and mami finds out, that’s not gonna be good for either of us.” He says, his tone a little lighter, trying to elicit a laugh from his daughter. Elena takes a deep breath, as though she’d rather do anything than tell her father the reason that she’s so desperate to stay home.

“I got my period.” She says, through gritted teeth, her eyes cast downward, her hands bunched together as she digs one of her fingernails into the back of her hand. Her voice is so quiet when she speaks, Oscar almost doesn’t hear what she says. But he does hear it, and he freezes. He doesn’t know what he should say. He looks at his daughter who’s turned away from him. She’s clearly mortified that he was the one she had to break this monumental news to. Oscar takes the car out of park, and pulls away from the school.

They drive for a little bit in silence until he finds a pharmacy. He pulls into the parking lot and turns the car off.

Oscar clears his throat, unsure of what his next action should be. “Do you—“ he says, clearing his throat another time before he continues “Do you want to come in to the store, or stay in the car?” He asks.

“Car.” She squeaks out, and Oscar obliges her.

He walks into the pharmacy and stares at the aisles, unsure of which one he should walk down. He’s not even really sure what he’s looking for. He’s been here before a few times when Marisol has needed something, but this time is different. He calls Marisol, completely at a loss as to what he should be looking for.

“Hola, mi amor!” She answers, and he feels his shoulders relax at the sound of her voice.

“Marisol.” He says, and she can hear the panic in his voice.

“¿Qué es? What’s wrong?” She says, her tone shifting from playful to panicked.

Oscar takes a breath, scanning the shelf of tampons and pads in front of him “Elena got her period.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. The line is silent before either of them speak.

“Ay, mi pobre bebé.” She sighs. “Where is she now?”

“In the car.” Oscar says. “She could barely get the words out when I dropped her off at school this morning.” He’s quiet for a moment before he continues. “I don’t even know what to get her, Marisol. I’m out of my depth here, querida.” Marisol chuckles a little, but her words are comforting when she speaks again.

“Just get her some pads.” She says. “The ultra thin ones. She doesn’t need tampons right now. I’ll get her those when I get back.” Oscar scans the shelf for what Marisol has instructed him to get and grabs them.

“Any chance you can come home earlier than Friday?” He asks her, only half joking.

“Sorry, mi amor.” She says, and he can tell that she actually is sorry.

“What do I say to her? Should I say anything? Jesus. I’m not good with this kind of shit,  
querida.” He says, running his hand down his face.

“How do you know if you’re good at this or not?” She asks, her voice conveying that she has more faith in him than he has in himself. “This is the first time you’ve ever done this before. Just, don’t pressure her to talk about it if she doesn’t want to. If she does, then she will.”

“Ay. Yeah, bien.” He says.

When he gets back to the car, Elena is still pressed against the inside of her door. He turns to her, unsure if he should hand her the bag or not. “I was taking to mami.” He says, and that seems to get her attention. “She told me what to get.” She looks at him, and then down at the bag in his hands. He extends it towards her, and she takes it from him.

“Listen, baby—” He begins to say.

“Daddy,” she cuts him off. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

He’s quiet for a minute before answering. “No.” He says. “No, we don’t have to talk about it right now.”

The remainder of the drive is spent in silence.

…

When they get home, Elena makes a bee-line for her bedroom, ignoring the “Hey” offered by Cesar who’s pouring himself a glass of orange juice in the kitchen. She closes her bedroom door a little harder than usual, causing Cesar to throw Oscar a questioning look.

Oscar shakes his head, as if to say ‘not now’, a look which Cesar ignores. “What’s up with her?” He asks, moving to sit at the kitchen table.

Oscar rubs the back of his neck, looking down the hall and then back at his brother. “She got her period.” He says, and Cesar looks down at his juice, his cheeks turning pink.

“Oh.” He says tapping his fingers against the glass in his hands, his face pinched slightly. There’s a beat silence before he speaks again. “And with only you here to talk to? Pobre chica.” He says, this time with a smile on his face, his tone a little more playful.

“Ay, cabrón. This isn’t funny.” Oscar says resting his face in his hands. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“I don’t think there’s much you can do.” Cesar says, taking a sip from his glass. “Just leave her alone for a bit. She’ll come out of her room eventually.”

“Eh? And what do you know about it?” Oscar laughs, giving his brother a smile.

“I guess you could say I’m kind of an expert when it comes to women.” Cesar says leaning back in his chair, a feigned look of satisfaction on his face.

“She’s not a woman.” Oscar corrects him, his gaze moving from his brother to the hallway. “Ella es mi niña”

…

Cesar had been right. Elena came out of her room around dinner time. When Oscar had tapped on her door to let her know that dinner was ready, she had mumbled an acknowledgment through the door. Oscar and Cesar were sitting at the kitchen table when they heard her door open. Elena walked out into the kitchen with a hoodie on. She didn’t make eye contact with either of them.

“I made your favourite, chica.” Oscar said, setting a plate of empanada’s in front of her.” She flashed him a half-hearted smile before turning her attention to her dinner. She ate a few forkfuls, and then spent the rest of the time pushing the food around on her plate. When Cesar got up from the table stating that he was heading over to Monse’s for the night, Elena barely gave Cesar enough time to get out the front before she was back down the hall, her bedroom door closing behind her.

…

Oscar was sitting on the sofa later that night when he heard Elena’s door open, her bare feet padding down the hallway.

“Daddy?” She said, stopping between the kitchen and the living room. Oscar muted the TV and turned towards her. “What are you watching?” She asked, her hands poking out from the too-big-for-her hoodie as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“Nothing, mija.” He said glancing at the TV and then back to her. “Just the end of some movie.” There was silence for a moment before either of them spoke.

“Can we watch Coco?” She asked, her little face titling up slightly to meet his gaze.

“Sure.” He said, pleasantly surprised that she wanted to speak to him after the day they’d had, let alone watch a movie with him. Oscar got up to pop the movie into the DVD player, and Elena walked across the living room, plopping herself down on the sofa. Oscar moved back to where he had been sitting on the sofa. He saw Elena look at him from the corner of his eye, and he turned to look at her. She smiled at him a little, and he returned the gesture. She scooted towards him, curling up into his side, her head resting against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, looking down at her. He stroked her hair and placed a kiss to the top of her head. “Mi niña pequeña.” He said, pulling her into him a little tighter.


End file.
